


It's cold outside

by BoneyardGracie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Hal's got a potty mouth, M/M, Nudity, and Hal should install a brain to mouth filter, mild swearing, the inquisitor's room is cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneyardGracie/pseuds/BoneyardGracie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually, Hal's the one trying to sneak out of bed and since when does he had a reputation to protect anyway? If anything, it's the faithful part that'll ruin his image of a ne'er-do-well, not that Hal minds even a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's cold outside

The fire had died down during the night, leaving only faintly glowing embers in the fireplace. The first rays of morning light filtered through a split between the heavy curtains. Cracks in the mortar, damage done over countless years of neglect and not completely repaired yet, let in wisps of cold air that had steadily chilled the room through the night.

Hal Trevelyan woke to a cold nose and someone trying to squirm out of his arms.

He was no stranger to that, though usually it was the other way around and he was the one trying to get out of bed (and occasionally even out of town), without another man noticing.

"Dorian," he grumbled, his voice sleep heavy and fuzzy at the edges, slurring the two syllables together. "At least wait 'til a servant has lit the fire again. Your balls are gonna crawl up behind your kidneys for warmth otherwise."

"As charming as that mental image is, I really should leave before anyone sees me," responded Dorian as he renewed his efforts to break free from Hal's arms. "Would you let go of me already?!"

Hal cracked one eye open.

"Why Dorian, are you ashamed of me?" he teased, but made no effort to let go.

Dorian froze for a split second, quick but impossible to miss.

"No," he said, his tone carefully even and smooth. "But perhaps you should be. We have been over this, Hal. You have a reputation to uphold."

Hal barked a laugh. He couldn't help it. Him? A reputation to uphold? By the Maker's hairy ballsack!

"And which one would that be, huh?" Hal asked. "The one of the booze hound? Or the lech, I like that one. Or the brawler? I mean, I don't know if you've caught on, but I've turned ruining my reputation into a national sport."

That only prompted in Dorian throwing Hal's arms from him and tossing the thick blankets off. Hal whined at the sudden flood of cold, having been left without both Dorian and the better part of the covers. No amount of chest hair would save him from that temperature drop.

Hal should know. He had plenty of it and found himself putting it to the test right then.

He had never done well at tests.

"By Andraste's tits, Dorian! D'you know how cold it is?!" he demanded and snatched up the nearest blanket to cover himself.

"I am _so_ pleased to know, Harold, that I can be of assistance in your efforts to ruin yourself," said Dorian, his tone as stiff and inflexible as his shoulders while he hastily groped around on the floor for his scattered clothes.

"Oh for fuck's sake." When the real name came out, Hal knew he had screwed up and, looking back on both his words and what he had learned from Dorian, he could pinpoint the exact moment when he should have stopped talking.

There was a very good reason by Josephine handled politics and he did the part where people smashed and stabbed until things stopped moving. He was good at latter. The former? Disaster of nearly impossible magnitude was a more apt description.

"Dorian! Dorian, would you just-" Hal tossed the last of the blankets back to get out of bed himself "-Maker it's cold. Would you stop getting dressed and listen to me for a second?!" Not that he minded the view of Dorian's ass while he was trying to get his small clothes and trousers on – Hal would die a happy, happy man with the image of Dorian's ass burned into his brain – but there were more important matters to deal with.

Sadly.

Dorian paused, foot in one trouser leg, and turned, slowly.

Hal noted that he wasn't the only one feeling the cold.

"What?" asked Dorian.

Hal grabbed Dorian's hand, tugged him closer until Dorian's knees hit the side of the bed between Hal's legs. Hal looked up at Dorian, showing a smile hardly anyone got to see, one devoid of Hal's usual cockiness and cynicism. A true one.

"I've told you before that I don't care what people think of us. Damn it, Dorian, you're the best this whole mess has brought me. This? Us? Ain't some sodding game I'm playing to piss my family off. Trust me, if I wanted to do that, I would've been caught being spanked by Bull on the battlements by now."

A moment dragged by torturously slow. Dorian blinked.

"That... That is not an image I needed in my head," he finally said.

Hal grinned up at him, snaking one arm up to tug Dorian down by the shoulder and cupped the side of Dorian's face with his left hand. "I have a way with words," he said.

"Yes," Dorian replied. "And it shall never fail to surprise me that you yet draw breath."

"You wound me," Hal murmured when they were nose to nose. He pulled Dorian down just a little further. Whatever Dorian would have said in reply was lost in a kiss. Hal wrapped his arms around Dorian's waist and fell backwards onto the bed, dragging the other with him. Their foreheads knocked together hard enough that Hal swore he saw stars for a second there.

He opened his eyes to find Dorian looking down. Their eyes met and Hal couldn't help but smile again.

"If you intend to solve every argument this way, please inform me in advance so I can bring a helmet to bed next time," said Dorian. "Now, will you either let me resume getting dressed or pull the covers back up? It is remarkably cold in here."

"No longer wanting to get out before someone sees us?" Hal asked, half teasing and half wanting to make sure.

"You might have given me a concussion," Dorian primly informed him and rolled off of Hal to claim his side of the bed again. "I’ll need bed rest to be on the safe side."

That drew a loud, booming laugh from Hal as he pulled the blankets back up over them and tugged Dorian against him once more.


End file.
